anatural: Korra looks ready to punch someone (angry mako)
[personal profile] anatural posting in [community profile] fuse_box
WHO: Korra & Hei
WHAT: Hei’s made himself scarce and Korra is sick of it.

[It has not been a good month for Korra. The people of Republic City haven't taken well to their new spirit neighbors, and most of the spirits seem to agree. By and large they just won't talk to her. The president has been calling Tenzin almost every day with new complaints and, for the past two weeks, these ridiculous vines have been overrunning sections of the city and nothing she does can get rid of them. It's been one Avatar failure after another.

Her boyfriend killing her uncle has basically been the highlight of the whole thing. But of course, after more or less telling her he loves her, he vanished. The little twerp who lives in his building always took great delight in telling her that Hei wasn't around, so she knew nothing had happened to him. He's just doing that avoidant bullshit he likes to do, and Korra is completely done with it. You don't leave for ten months, come back for maybe two and a half weeks of regular contact, and then disappear for another month. No.

So today, when the brat once again tells her that Hei's out, she smiles and says she'll wait for him in his room. Never mind that she doesn't have a key — she just kicks down the door and uses her Avatar powers to deflect his ridiculously paranoid security system. And then she throws herself on his bed to wait and stew.]

Date: 2014-07-15 04:41 am (UTC)
mortemscintilla: ∅ We got mouths to feed (Hei - Lost This One)
From: [personal profile] mortemscintilla
[ That wasn't home, Hei wants to tell her – because he's never trusted that sort of sentimentality and permanence. Everywhere he stays is just a waystation, a temporary port in a storm, until he finds another place better suited to his needs. But there's no way to explain all that. So he settles for squeezing her hard, letting touch take the place of words. His head is so full of Korra's breathing that he's filtered out almost everything else; his ears are cupped to an otherwise muted world. It gives the scene a soft soundlessness, both dreamlike and subaqueous. ]

[ At her question, he nods, an oddly reassuring weight and dig of his chin on her scalp. ]


No one was hurt.

[ Badly, anyway. It's not his way to ponder the human detritus left behind in a catastrophe. Your own life is what matters. You do what you have to, and take what you must. Shit on conscience and consequence. (Except he can remember too, what it's like to have the props of your life snatched from under you. To leave a place carrying nothing but what's in your hands.) ]

[ He tries not to think about it. Now isn't the time. ]

[ Quietly, ]


Want to come with me to a safehouse? Or should I take you to Air Temple Island?

Date: 2014-07-15 09:50 pm (UTC)
mortemscintilla: ∅  Honey you'd be surprised (Hei - Yin/Closer)
From: [personal profile] mortemscintilla
[ He wants to ask, Are you sure? Exhaustion and sadness twirl from the surface of her skin like smoke, caught like a heavy scent in her hair and the weave of her clothes. He knows a trick or two for erasing that. Go too long without indulgence and the system gets bollixed up. All he needs is an hour with her, and he swears he'll wring the tension out of her so good she'll sleep for a week. ]

[ Except she's right. Now isn't the time. ]

[ So he nods, and kisses her. Full on the mouth -- a warm, soft slide of lips. Then her neck, the curve of her breasts, her flat little belly. Half memorizing her warmth, her sweet contours, against future privation. Half reassuring her that if she changes her mind -- today, tomorrow -- this bottomless attention, this bittersweet greed for her, will always be there. ]

[ Lifting his head, he nudges his nose lightly against hers. ]


I'll see you off to the ferry.

Date: 2014-07-15 10:49 pm (UTC)
mortemscintilla: ∅ No of course you're not shy (Hei - Sideways Glance/Soft)
From: [personal profile] mortemscintilla
[ Hei inhales slowly between the swells of their kiss. He's forgotten the thrill, the completion, of such simple closeness, from having gone too long without it. Intimacy, the in-your-face kind, makes him invested and possessive, which is why he avoids it so aggressively. He's known this about himself for years, but is now experiencing a fresh new recognition. Yet, if fear of intimacy is a merit badge of manhood, a sign of tactical acumen, he is flunking, because he wants to mouth Korra all over and share secrets and a bed with her. He doesn't want to send her off alone. He likes the solidity of another body pressing close. It feels safe, not a shield against danger but a tactile source of nourishment. ]

[ Except he's not gotten this far by listening to his dick -- or that gooey, senseless mess of wants behind his ribcage. So he mouths the corner of her jaw, softly, and says, ]


I need to look for a new place. The safehouse won't cut it.

[ A silence stretches, in which he'd ordinarily let her go. Let the matter drop. But through this gesture he enters the mirror of Maxley, or maybe his father, men who'd unknowingly taught him how to turn away from others, not meeting their eyes, head bent as if there were more important things to focus on, like war-games, real estate or the cost of fruit. There is nothing more important. ]

[ In a low voice -- halting, almost awkward -- he adds, ]


Once I've found a new flat... why don't you move in?

[ It's said in the same tone he'd use for, Why don't we order sushi? Isn't this sort of moment, when it comes, supposed to be... heartfelt? Not some diversion from a catastrophe they've so narrowly averted? But half Hei's life has been spent functioning in that state. He's learnt to snatch any opportunity for solace when he can. ]

Date: 2014-07-15 11:42 pm (UTC)
mortemscintilla: ∅  I can't hold back (Hei - Count On Me)
From: [personal profile] mortemscintilla
If it happens again, it'll come out of your rent.

[ He makes ironical eyes at her, but his half-smile is gentle. Dimly, part of him wonders if this is wise. They've shared a living space before, yes. But the risks were different in the City. Korra didn't have to juggle the weight of Avatar duties with her private life. Hei didn't have to make an effort at maintaining a private life in the first place. If Tenzin or her parents caught wind of this, they'd either wrench her away -- or force them both together until they took, or something exploded.]

[ By asking her to move in, he might be ruining the last shred of happiness between them. ]

[ Yet, as he spans his arms around her, something in his aching chest relaxes and it is simply good: the inrushing smell of Korra's body, the brightness of her heat signature, the play of muscles and delightful softness. Maybe there are other girls somewhere who look more or less like Korra, speak like her, dress like her, but Hei never thinks them to be in the same species. No one else would be as welcome sitting on his couch, rummaging in his fridge. No one else would have that right or rightness. Korra fits a niche, the small particular niche that is his life, and fits in ways Hei can't label. What labels they've already given each other don't seem enough. When he tries to break down his sense of Korra into thoughtful elements, they come clumsily in words like zesty and sweet and textured, losing all the significance he's assigned them. He suspects Korra would laugh at this kind of description. ]

[ Instead, ]


Think about all the modern conveniences you can't get in your average stone-aged island. Meat in the fridge. Laundry privileges. Hot and cold running me.

Date: 2014-07-16 01:49 am (UTC)
mortemscintilla: ∅ (Hei - An Actual Smile Kinda)
From: [personal profile] mortemscintilla
[ Ground rules already? Hei looks at his daft roommate-to-be, feeling a mingled fondness and exasperation. Something in him, the actor, the straight man, wants to make a face, but he leaves it alone. The scripted lines of a normal day have been struck out anyway. It has been a long time since he's improvised from his own terrifying heart. Quietly, he tucks her words away, unable to muster a response beyond a wide-eyed suspension of disbelief and a sense of having gone trippingly over the edge in an alley reeking of stale laundry and diarrhetic cats. ]

[ Twining a loose strand of her hair around his finger, he tugs gently. ]


I'll keep it in mind. [ There's a beat, before he allows himself a concession toward honesty. Not his preferred method of operating, but he doesn't want to give her the impression of having disappeared again, so soon after this mess. ] I'll be scarce for a week. But if you need to see me, ask for 'Li' at a smoke-house called Dusares.

Date: 2014-07-16 02:11 am (UTC)
mortemscintilla: ∅ Pass before these eyes (Hei - y u no listen?)
From: [personal profile] mortemscintilla
[ She's daft in a cute way, if it's any consolation? ]

[ At her question, he hesitates. It's always a risk, divulging too much information about his whereabouts. Especially when he's prone to hanging out in the seediest quarters of the city, with individuals who have never represented the best of mankind, or even the best of snitches and mercenaries. Most of them are a step above sociopaths. Most of the rest are a step below. That's the problem with sinking into the underworld without a reputation to back you up. What you lack is the right connections, and that is what he's steadily made over the past months: connections. A person who is worth nothing must introduce you to a person worth next-to-nothing, and that person to another, and so on and so forth until finally you can step across the threshold to the Kingpin's den, almost one of the family. ]

[ Eventually, (gently), he says, ]


I rent a room there. Good thing about opium addicts? They have no energy to survive burglar traps.

Date: 2014-07-16 09:27 pm (UTC)
mortemscintilla: ∅ You just know you want out (Hei - Seducing You)
From: [personal profile] mortemscintilla
[ At least he hasn't mentioned the prostitutes -- a veritable buffet of jailbait. Or the fact that it's the sort of street where even the cats are thin and hollow-eyed for want of meat, where men who profess to be laborers never seem to labor and so-called washer-women rarely wash. Why bother? A do-gooder like Korra would do no good there, and likely storm home with despair and rage in her heart and shit on her shoes. ]

[ So instead he kisses her, with a soft greedy gasp vibrating against her mouth. Breaks away to lay his moist lips on her forehead, then spreads their drifting wake around one eye, across cheek and bone, across the tiny wayside of her ear, down to the pretty lips again. ]

[ After a beat, with effortful steadiness, ]


Let's go.

[ Before I do something stupid. ]

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